


Elara's Journal: Keep Out!

by Hobbotch



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Curse of Strahd, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:46:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 8,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16410470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbotch/pseuds/Hobbotch
Summary: A worn leather bound book full of scribbles and dog eared pages. Inscribed on the inside of the front cover reads:Journal #27Archive of Elara Say'dar'iall's travels. Contents include Fairfield and Barovia.BOM STOP READING MY DIARY!





	1. Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my D&D game. I wanted to keep notes to track everything happening between sessions and started writing them like a diary so why not publish it. Enjoy me and my friends floundering around in The Curse of Strahd.

Dear Diary,

I think I really hate how I write Ds. How I write everything. I told myself this journal would be different. I would finally keep one clean and perfect. No more smudges and scribbles and loose papers stuffed haphazardly in. All these expectations and the first mark I make I hate. The line is too slanted. The curve asymmetric and off proportion. I want to start over. Rip this page out, but the torn edges would drive me crazier than my handwriting. If only paper wasn’t so expensive I could just throw this away and pretend it never happened. But it took nearly three weeks saving and scrimping every coin and still I had to dip into my savings to pay for this one. Fairfield doesn’t have the most robust trade center driving prices up further. Thankfully the Thornwoods bought my stock of chicory. Of course I ended up giving them a good discount per pound to get them to spend more and buy the whole bulk. The plan for tomorrow is herb hunting, now that I have a feel for the market here, but until I make more coin I’m stuck in Fairfield.


	2. Salt and Pepper

Dear Diary,

There is a huge swatch of wild tubers growing along the river. Another update to my map. They were amazing roasted in the ashes of my campfire, especially after a sprinkle of the salt and pepper I splurged on yesterday. I immediately regretted the purchase of course. A hair’s breadth from returning them. It was frivolous and only delayed me further. But truly simple pleasures are worth spoiling yourself with. Especially after last night’s dream. I sent a letter to Rowan this morning. Just in case.


	3. TGIF

Dear Diary,

The tavern, Thackery’s Greasy spoon in Fairfield, is decent. An actual clean bed. Fresh food. The bread is amazing. Warm and flaky buttery croissants. Crusty loaves with a soft fluffy texture. Thackery is an amazing baker, much better than the actual bakery in town. They only seem to care about pumping out as many blah loaves as possible, while Thackery actually cares about the taste and experience. Unless of course you extend this care to the fruit. I was sopping up my creamy, cheesy, rich broccoli soup with my potato roll when I bit into the accompanying pear. I was expecting juicy, soft flesh. It wasn’t. It was very very unripe. Without thinking I did what I would normally do. I nudged it to ripen with a bit of nature magic. Right in the middle of the TGIF. It was mostly empty and who would be watching me eat. 

A goblin would be. 

Fairfield has been getting it’s fair share of rain over the last few days. The farmers must adore it. Normally I would. The smell of rain and wet dirt. The way it cools a hot day. But the way it ruins camping not so much. So my evenings have been spent at TGIF listening to an odd little goblin play the room at night. I didn’t know goblins could even make music. Bom Vingak as he is called was already playing when I trudged in from the rain. I slipped Thackery my coin as he headed to the kitchen to fetch my dinner and key. I grabbed a seat in an empty corner waiting for whatever Thackery’s magic fingers had whipped up in the kitchen when the lyrics of the song dawned on me. That little goblin was singing about me! He figured I was a Druid from the bit of nature magic he saw and somehow invented an entire ballad about me. How long has he been spying on me? I try to keep a low profile in new towns. Never know how the people will respond. After having a few villages run me out or deny me entry because they fear I’ve come to destroy their towns and return the land to nature I usually try to blend in as a passing herbalist. No longer in Fairfield. Thankfully I only received a few long glances and questioning stares. No mob with pitchforks and fire. I haven’t bought all my traveling supplies, but if I must I will prematurely leave this village.


	4. Ears

Dear Diary,

So far so good. My long ears haven’t heard any murmurings about me. Well beyond the gossip of ‘Did you know that little half elf is a druid? Wonder if she turns into animals. Hope I don’t hunt her on accident.’ But no ‘Let’s burn the druid!’ gossip.


	5. Cattle

Dear Diary,

Maybe I owe that goblin a thank you. I was leaving TGIF after another rainy night when Dereck Rosengate bumped into me. The thunder during the previous night had spooked his animals. A few of them broke their enclosure and ran away. “Your kind, druids, have a thing with animals, right? Can you uhhh talk to ‘em and git ‘em back to their pens?” He asked so nicely, how could I ever say no. If it wasn’t for the fact his missing animals were cattle I might have just walked away, but cows sadly have such little sense for survival now. Their lives would be better being cared for in captivity instead of instant death due to predators. 

The wet mud captured their trail perfectly making it an easy task. I found them grazing not far from town. A few words and grasses had them following me back home. Rosengate hadn’t fixed his pens but a few vines and branches would hold. If Rosengate wasn’t out finding his cattle or mending his fences what had he done all day? Perhaps he doesn’t have to do anything being one of the most prosperous farms in the area. He can afford to merely manage. Afford to pay others to do his work as he did me, but I made more than I had all of last week. It’s a fraction of what the cattle are worth but far more than I usually see. I immediately took what I had and restocked my traveling supplies. Minus rations my bags are fully packed, most of my savings intact, and I can finally reasonably leave this village. But perhaps I will stay a bit longer. Ensure I can get decent rations and won’t be forced to forage everything. Wait for the rain to finally pass.


	6. Berries

Dear Diary,

Rosengate spread word of how useful my skills are. Gossip spreads quickly here. As if the locals can’t bear to keep anything to themselves. But I doubt much happens here. I’ve been asked to find lost cats. Another farmer asked me to increase his harvest, make his crops bloom and ripen. Another asked to watch me dance naked under the moonlight to “learn the druid ways”. Letch. Today’s adventure was a young boy who ate poisonous berries. Or so the local healer thought. Unfortunately he was unsure of what the boy ate and was having problems curing him. Sigurd I believe is the name of the healer sent for me. I was to either identify the poison or find a means to cure him. Thankfully I’ve studied poison cures and removal spells for some time now. A necessity when I was first learning to live in the wilds. The amount of times I misidentified berries and herbs the first years out, sigh. I removed the poison. Sigurd… or maybe it was Sigurdson, finished treating the boy for any lingering ill effects. These little odd jobs have been very good for my wallet. My savings is above my goal and I will be able to get luxury items like soap, candles, and a few days of nice food. People are willing to pay far more for my skills than my herbs heh. Maybe I should be more trusting. Just a bit


	7. Cobbler

Dear Diary,

The peach cobbler. THE PEACH COBBLER. Perfect peaches, at the peak of ripeness. Their tartness balanced perfectly with the fluffy cake like topping. Soft buttery with light touch of nutmeg and cinnamon. It was amazing. Chilled whipped cream added the finishing touch of sweet. The best dessert I’ve had in years. Thackery might be the only reason I’m still in this tiny town.


	8. Goodbyes

Dear Diary,

Tonight was strange and sad and I’m finally leaving Fairfield. I was settling down for dinner at TGIF, it’s almost become a ritual to end the day there even when I’m not staying in the inn. Thackery served up a delicious salmon stew. Hearty with fennel and potato. After half the town had settled in for a night at the tavern, Thackery stood up and interrupted Bom’s strange little songs. Thackery had an announcement for us. He sold the Greasy spoon!! Thackery got an offer from an investor over in Red Larch and accepted. New management would arrive to take over in less than a week. A week and I lose TGIF. I don’t want to watch this place die. Many others there seemed to feel the same, upset over the loss of our TGIF. That’s when the night turned strange. A man arrived shortly before this all happened. The fog that crept into town as the sun set seemed to cling to his cloak. As soon as Thackery had left to tend the kitchen, this newcomer murmured loudly he knew a way to save the tavern. A way to make enough money Thackery, possibly the whole town, would never have to worry again. This perked up many sitting in the bar. Fairfield has its fair share of struggling farmers and workers. One bad year and you could lose your home and land. And many had recently had a bad year. One of the Thornwood boys, Gilbert, immediately questioned the man, who produced a letter.

Hail to thee of might and valor,  
I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee. We plead for thy so desperately needed assistance.  
The love of my live, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted by an evil so deadly that even the good people of our village cannot protect her. She languishes from her wound, and I would have her saved from this menace.  
There is much wealth in this community. I offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea.  
Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that I have shall be thine!  
Kolyan Indirovich  
Burgomaster

Half the tavern crowded around, but once they saw the “evil” backed off. Once Bom saw “wealth” however he drew closer. He and Gilbert and a young gnome were the only ones still entertaining the idea of answering the plea...and me. I don’t know why I feel the draw. I don’t need wealth. There might be knowledge but there are easier paths to it and death comes to us all. It is only natural that Ireena follows the cycle even if it is sooner than her lover wishes. Perhaps I have grown more attached to this place than I thought and want to help Thackery’s money problem. But the sale is already done and we have less than a week before the new owner takes over. I planned to leave Fairfield forever ago, leaving now would give me traveling companions for at least part of the way. I rarely travel with others but perhaps I am lonely? Whatever it is, I joined the small group as they sat and talked. Gilbert Thornwood had just lost the farm and needed gold desperately. Bom was just greedy. Roht Sigurdsons is the daughter of the local healers. She however seems to be a bit of a black sheep. Her interest was only in curing the girl, proving she had inherited her family’s gifts. We leave tomorrow morning.


	9. Traveling

Dear Diary,

Finally on the road again. I missed it. Even with heavy fog obscuring everything, the draw of nature, to wander, seeing something new is invigorating. The four of us, Gilbert, Bom, Roht, and I, left early in the morning. Almost everything was ready to go and packed already. It feels like I had been ready to leave this village for weeks. I just had to buy a few days worth of rations, I made sure to grab several loaves from Thackery. He even threw in a few delicate pastries. If only I could bring him and his kitchen with us. But alas, I must abandon him. I met the others in town as they finished their errands and we departed. We passed a few farms on the outskirts of town. Bom and I jumped the fence to the orchard, stealing a few extra apples. But we didn’t talk much. Truly a party of convenience not companionship. The fog today was the thickest I’ve ever seen in Fairfield. And instead of growing thin in the sun, it only seems to grow thicker and thicker. Trails I have followed seem unfamiliar. Maybe it’s just the fog making it look different like a path becoming unrecognizable in the dark. Maybe I lost sense of direction and this truly is a different location from what I think. Either way we tried to follow the vague directions the messenger left us. I was certain we were lost until I saw the gate. A massive stonework carved with gargoyles that we decided was a perfect spot for our midday meal. I’ve already gobbled down one of my Thackery loaves. It was perfect with my sharp cheese and stolen apple. The trees here are odd. The others are still eating. I have some time


	10. Trees

Dear Diary,

The trees. The poor trees. They seem to be dying or worse. Seeing the black gnarled trunk and empty branches I wanted to investigate the trees near us. It is far too early for the trees to lose their leaves. It felt unnatural and wrong. I don’t know what is wrong with the tree I looked at but something is very wrong. It didn’t respond to the little nature magic I know. I can’t cause leaves or buds. It feels like I can’t connect to the tree. A wall or something blocks me. I did the only thing I could think of. I burned it and prayed something healthy will be reborn in its ashes. Fire still bit into its bark but it didn’t burn like a dead tree would. It burned slow with thick black smoke pouring from it. I swear I could make out faces screaming in the smoke. And trees just like that one are everywhere.


	11. Welcome to Barovia

Dear Diary,

We reached the village of Barovia before nightfall. How did I not know of a town a single day’s travel away? Granted I am glad I choose to stay in Fairfield over Barovia. After lunch and my tree torching we started back down along the trail until the smell of rotting flesh caught our attention. A short distance off we found the source, a corpse. Bom rifled through the man’s belongings and I’m fairly certain pocketed a few coins before the rest of us even reached the body. That’s how he found the letter. 

Hail thee of might and valor:  
I, Burgomaster of Barovia, send you honor - with despair. My adopted daughter, the fair Ireena Kolyana, has been these past nights bitten by a vampyr. For over four hundred years, this creature has drained the life blood of my people. Now, my dear Ireena languishes and dies from an unholy wound caused by this vile beast. He has become too powerful to conquer.  
So I say to you, give us up for dead and encircle this land with the symbols of good. Let holy men call upon their power that the devil may be contained within the walls of weeping Barovia. Leave our sorrows to our graves, and save the world from this evil fate of ours.  
There is much wealth entrapped in this community. Return for your reward after we are all departed for a better life.  
Kolyan Indirovich  
Burgomaster

Kolyan Indirovich seems to enjoy sending mysterious mail, only, the contents and handwriting were completely different. Maybe he used a scribe? But in one letter Ireena is his beloved and this one says daughter. We debated following this message and turning back or if this was an older message and we should follow the first letter. Which is just around the time I noticed the paw prints. Giant paw prints. We weren’t the first to the corpse and the wolves weren’t happy we mucked with their dinner. So naturally they attacked. A dire wolf and its normal wolf friend came at us. Gilbert used his pitchfork rather well and dual crossbows are more what I expect from a goblin over a lute, but Roht was a surprise. She is a necromancer. I thought healing would be her forte from my brief encounters with her family, however her skills lay in unnatural magics instead. Not exactly happy about her use of that but being attacked by wolves isn’t the time to get into a conversation about morals and she hasn’t done anything wrong. Am I really the one to judge what she does? Anyway those three played offense while I mostly acted as support. A few entangling vines here. A few fireballs there. We managed to take down the wolves, even the one that ambushed us from the fog. After that we left quickly, trying to avoid the rest of the pack and continued on until we reached the village. 

Which is quite a dreary place. The entire village is run down. Buildings boarded up and falling to pieces. Constant screaming and moaning in the background. A place only the desperate stay. We stopped at the Blood of the Vine tavern, the most welcoming building, by which I mean it was actually lit and occupied. A dozen or so villagers sat in the main room and weren’t happy when we entered asking about Kolyan, who is dead. This whole strange mission was given to us by a dead man. But the quest can go on! Kolyan has a son, Ismark Kolyanovich. He was happy we came and took us to his home. His besieged home. The outside was covered in what looked like claw marks. Windows broken and boarded over. The inside was slightly better. Just worn and covered in holy symbols. Ismark is definitely trying to keep something evil out. 

He introduced us to his sister, the famed Ireena, and explained exactly what he wants from us. Ireena has captured the attention of a powerful vampire named Strahd. He has been attacking the family trying to capture Ireena. Possibly even turn her. Bom’s keen eyes pick up more than just gold it seems. He noticed bite marks on Ireena. She wasn’t bothered by the holy symbols so there is a chance she has merely been fed on. Ismark wants to remove Ireena from the village, take her somewhere out of the reach of Strahd, another town called Vallaki. Ireena however isn’t interested in Ismark’s plan. She wants to bury Kolyan. Yes, Kolyan. He was recently killed, so recently his body is still in the parlor. Ireena refused to leave until her father is given proper rights and buried at the church cemetary. Ismark doesn’t want her doing such because it puts her in danger, but how are we to escort her to the next village if she never leaves the house? Gilbert and Bom convince Ismark to go along with Ireena’s demands. Roht seems focused on Ireena, maybe thinking of how to cure her assuming anything in the letters is true, which Ismark confirms only the second letter is in his father’s hand. The first letter and its courier are a mystery. We’ll stay in Ismark and Ireena’s home tonight. Once the sun is up we take the body to the graveyard, all of us, Ireena should be safe in the sunlight and on hallowed ground then we leave for Vallaki.


	12. Digging

Dear Diary,

Finally a few moments of rest. The constant fog doing a bit of good to cool us down while we dig. This morning we left with Kolyan’s body and children. We carried the casket to the local church, passing a screaming house, to find the church is a screaming church. Screaming and crying must be the national pastime of Barovia. But the church screaming didn’t seem so sad and depressed but fury. “I can smell your blood” “You will all die” I worry about what Father Donavich has in his basement, but it’s not my problem right now. And he seemed pressed to get us away from the screamer leading us to the cemetery behind the church. He gave a bit of a funeral before handing us shovels. I guess there is no gravedigger and we must give Kolyan a full burial. We found a nice spot for him to rest. I passed my shovel off to Bom after digging for what seemed like hours. This is taking longer than I hoped, but Kolyan can soon be lowered into his grave. How far is Vallaki? Will the sun still be up? I suppose I can


	13. Strahd Sends Greetings

Dear Diary,

Strahd just appeared. The others were lowering Koylan into the grave and I swear as soon as the body hit the dirt there was a man on a flying horse above the open grave. Roht noticed first and Ireena screamed and then it was chaos. Donavich ran back to the church immediately. He was the smartest of us all. Strahd let us know he was here for “his” Ireena. She didn’t agree until he did something to her. Some sort of mind control. Then she was willingly going to Strahd. Ismark and Gilbert did their best to keep her away from the vampire. The rest of us did what we could to Strahd, which was not much. Bom’s crossbolts might as well have been a slight breeze and Strahd seemed to shrug off Roht’s and mine magic. I...I’m worried. 

Strahd had dismounted from his flying horse onto what should have been hallowed ground and was making his way toward us. I slammed my hand to the ground willing vines and brambles to grow, trying to impede him. And they responded coiling up from the ground entangled with bones and other loose body parts, because of course the graveyard isn’t well maintained, but not with Strahd. He strolled through them, entertained with me desecrating those put to rest here. Saying how we were similar but he knew better ways to raise the dead. Which did frustrate me so I tossed a bit of fire his way which he also shrugged off. In the meantime, Ireena gotten past Gilbert and Ismark to mount the flying horse. With her out of harm's way Strahd took that as his cue to show off. “You will never reduce the world to ashes with such piddly flames. Allow me to show you how to truly burn.” He chuckled right before loosening a massive fireball at us. It was scorching hot, like the surface of the sun brought to earth. I don’t know how we remained standing afterwards but I threw a few milkvetch leaves and muttered a few words to try to keep us standing. 

The power behind his spell is worrying but I’m more concerned with his words. How did he know. And I swear I felt like I blanked out for a few seconds after all this. Strahd said something about me or offered power. Everything is fuzzy around this. I don’t even remember how Gilbert got himself onto the flying horse which I’m sure was a sight to see. Did Strahd slide into my mind like he did Ireena? What did he see? I wish I could talk to Rowan about this. He still hasn’t responded to my last letter but who knows if it’s even reached him yet. Should I limit my fire magic until then? Can I afford to? At least I can depend on my traveling companions. Gilbert wrangled that flying horse. He told me, “Shucks, it was easy. I was practically raised by horses.” A vampire controlled flying horse is still a horse I suppose. With the horse under control he pulled Ireena from it’s back. Strahd wasn’t pleased but having Ireena near us meant no more large fireballs. 

So Strahd changed his tactics, but not his need to educate us. After taunting me he focused on Roht’s latest attempt to strike at him. An attempt that did nothing. Seeing her necromantic magic he felt the need to demonstrate true necromancy. He can’t help but rub his superiority in your face. That’s when he dropped an orb into the open grave. It was deep purple and swirled like shadows. After briefly disappearing below the lip of the grave it floated back up and rested about 5 feet over Kolyan’s grave. Purple tendrils of smoke and light crept out of the orb and into the ground, into the corpses below it. Four skeletons burst from their graves, eyes glowing with the same purple as the orb. One appeared for each of us. Strahd’s chuckle turned into a squeaking as he became a bat and flew off. Seems odd he would leave with how much he was overpowering us, but again if we did finish off his orb and skeletons what would we do? Everyone was hurt, it was already past midday not that the sun offered us any protection. No if we survived this we would need to rest and recover. Strahd had already kept us to Barovia. 

The four skeletons were easy to take down. A strike with a sword more than enough to crack the brittle bones, but while we were occupied with the skeletons the orb continued it’s magic raising another four skeletons. However this round black tendrils seeped out and into the ground. The two skeletons it awoke were more an amalgamation of bodies cemented together to form larger more formidable foes. And just before they engaged us a terrible coil of sickly purple and black snaked into Kolyan’s grave. Ismark took that as his cue to get Ireena out of there. He dragged her along. The mind control still affecting her. She just stared at the patch of sky Strahd had flown off into, body moving slow and clunky. Gilbert and Bom continued to beat on the skeletons, but seeing the orb just raise more got my attention. I shot a small lance of fire at it. I couldn’t tell if that did anything but it did upset its pet skeletons as they aimed their ire toward me, which hurt. I took a few smacks. Thankfully the large fused skeleton had missed me with its giant bone club. Not so thankfully a crack of wood splintering boomed from Kolyan’s grave. A crack drown out by the call of a father to his children, “Ismark, Ireena come to me!” Kolyan’s moldering form climbed from the grave we had lowered him in just minutes earlier. Very much not how I wanted to meet the person who started us on this wild goose chase. Things turned into a melee after this. Skeletons attacking everyone, Roht whipping out her quarterstaff to smash skeletons to dust, even Ireena seemed to finally snap out of her trance to swing her sword. Bom however got a face full of dirt after Kolyan’s corpse shot him with glowing purple bolts of light. 

Just as we are freaking out about Bom maybe dying, screams erupted from the church behind us. Another mess for us to clean up as if we didn’t have a graveyard full already. Roht and Gil shifted focus to killing the large skeletons then Kolyan and orb. Gilbert actually landed a blow cracking the orb. Kolyan wasn’t happy about this, casting a dense black fog around the controlling orb. I poured more leaves on Bom which got him on his feet. Leaves and a bit of nature magic do a body good. With us finally making ground on the orb’s reinforcements, only Kolyan and two small skeletons remained, Roht takes it on herself to run off to the church when the screaming grows. I’m fairly certain she knew as we all did this wasn’t whatever was crying out from the basement earlier, but the priest. Bom, reckless as ever even though he almost just died, charged into the darkness and shattered the orb. The purple glow from the skeleton eyes dim and die as they collapse into piles of bone. Kolyan slowly tumbled back into his grave as “Curses, curses, none will escape Barovia whilst the master lives,” gurgles from the corpse.

Because we didn’t know how to leave well enough alone, we charged after Roht to investigate the church. Ismark doesn’t follow, not wanting to bring Ireena into an unknown situation. Smart plan. Not so smart plan none of us stay with them. Not that we could stop Strahd but leaving them alone not the best. I didn’t spy anything in the windows as we ran past. None of them looked into the chapel’s main hall. Roht kicked at the door once we reach her, I think to open it? But her little gnome legs just made a dull thud. Bom instead used the door handle and opened it like a normal person. Did I just call a goblin a normal person? Bom found a form leaning over another laying on the floor. Naturally he just shoots a crossbolt at it, not knowing anything, assuming what was happening. He missed. That’s when the figure noticed him, head up and hisses. Claws and fangs, never a good sight. A vampire. Another vampire and it ripped the priest to ribbons. It screamed at Bom then launcheed itself out the once beautiful stained glass windows circling the altar. Bom likes to play it off as if the vampire fled in terror from his heroic stance. Ha a bloody, wobbling goblin isn’t the most fear inducing. After a once over and seeing no other signs of life or undeath we called Ismark and Ireena to us. A crumbling church with a dead priest is better than no shelter. Finally a few moments to rest and bandage up.


	14. Digging Part 2

Dear Diary,

Bom went on and on about the vampire fleeing in fear once he saw Bom’s heroic, deadly, and sexy visage. Ismark however had something of substance to add to the conversation. He caught a glimpse of the vampire as it ran into the woods and remarked that it looked like a villager he knew named Doru. Before we came there was a siege on Castle Ravenloft, Strahd’s home, and everyone who took part was lost, including Doru. Gilbert assumed the screams we heard before were Doru and asked why the priest would keep one of the turned villagers in the church undercroft and that’s when Ismark lets us know that Doru was Donavich’s son. 

Bom broke the heaviness asking if he could ring the church bells. A toll of the bells is a perfect way to alert the village of the passing of the priest. Roht held him off for a few minutes asking about the church and how out of the norm a ringing of the bells would be. It would be a bit. Services are held once a week like most churches but for those that attend it’s more about going through the motions than actually worshipping Lathander. Bom took the confirmation that we won’t be run out of town for messing around with the bells as permission and tried to play a little song. He should stick to his lute. 

It’s late into the day, we are worn and hurting, but Ireena wanted to dig another grave. I offered to set up a funeral pyre for the priest. She just gave me a dirty look in reply. Cremation is in no way disrespectful! If anything burning the bodies spare them from being raised by Strahd! Ismark wanted to investigate the undercroft to see if he can learn more about his friend Doru. If that really was him. If he really was turned into a vampire. If he really was kept prisoner and murdered his father. Bom, Gilbert, and Roht follow behind him more interested in the mystery than playing in the dirt. I’m not exactly keen to more digging and I just insulted Ireena with my offer of a clean alternative less labor intensive funeral, but I can’t leave her alone. Yes I have no way to defeat Strahd or anything in my state right now, but I can’t leave her alone. So I followed behind her. 

We picked a plot near her father’s but far enough away that she won’t have to look into his grave the whole time. I discreetly grabbed the shovels from beside the grave and settled down to dig another. After enough silence I tried to gather information. We are in over our heads and need more knowledge if we are to figure this out and survive. I asked why Strahd was so fixed on her and she doesn’t know. Anytime he is near she goes into that charmed like state, remembering nothing but the burning hunger in his eyes. It’s odd he hasn’t turned her. I asked about her brother’s plan. Why would Vallaki offer protection and Barovia not? Why that town? And she doesn’t know. Ismark thinks it’s best and she trusts him. So I’ll have to question him. 

I asked about history and how long Strahd has ruled the land. Barovia has been his for centuries. Before Strahd, Lathander watched over the land. His light blessing Barovia with every sun rise, then the mist came. A mist that is ever present. A mist that chokes and kills any trying to escape. The curse of Strahd. I’ve never heard of a curse like this but the fog, mist, has been present ever since we left Fairfield. It was actually creeping into the town a few nights before we left, getting thicker and thicker each night. Could Fairfield be swallowed up by the curse now too? But with the sun blocked, Lathander is gone and Strahd rules. If no one can leave the mist without dying how did that messenger get to us? Why would someone send the letter? Why call people here? Her best guess is to give him new victims to torment when he gets bored. So we are stuck in a land of killer mist ruled by a vampire with a fixation on a woman we agreed to protect. This is all overwhelming and definitely not where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I don’t think I can burn down a mist. 

Eventually the others came out of the church with the priest’s remains. We buried him and finally piled dirt on Kolyan’s body. One of our tasks complete. Time to return to square one and rest up at Ismark’s home. We past that crying house again and Bom not knowing when to leave well enough alone asked about it. “We have enough problems of our own right now.” Ismark is a man after my own heart with that reply. “I’m not a hero and don’t want to be one. I want to survive, not seek out trouble.” Once at the house, Ismark and Ireena set to securing the doors and windows. They have done this several times judging from how fluid and smooth the routine flows. We had a simple dinner of roast vegetables and chicken, so roast vegetables. The lack of sun leaves the produce here so anemic. 

Before we head to our rooms Ireena stopped us with a present, a golden pendant in the shape of a blooming rose surrounded by a wreath of grain. Kolyan had collected the many holy symbols around the mansion but this pendant was the most powerful one. I’m amazed this came out of Bom’s mouth but he suggested Ireena keep hold of the necklace if it truly held some power of protection. I half expected him to grab it and horde away the gold. Gilbert and Roht instead were the ones transfixed by it. Ireena insisted we take it and it eventually ended up in Gilbert’s hand. The symbol reminded him of his god, Chauntea, and that was enough for Roht to back down. I’m just happy to be in bed with a full belly.


	15. Aged

Dear Diary,

No matter how rough of a night I had, I can’t top whatever happened to Gilbert. I was enjoying the last of my bread from Thackery for breakfast, when Gilbert’s father walked into the dining room. Or he looked like he could be Gilbert’s father, but it was Gilbert himself. I assumed he was close to my age, maybe a few years younger but now he looks at least double. Brown hair turned to gray. Wrinkles worn into his face. He has no idea what happened and neither do any of us it seems. We guessed it was the necklace he received from Ireena. Strahd didn’t seem to touch or do anything to just him. Ireena also had contact with the horse. Bom was also in the cloud of darkness near the scary orb. They said nothing happened in the undercroft of the church. The necklace was the only unique circumstance to happen to Gilbert. I was able to detect magic from it but that could be the power from the goddess it’s dedicated to. Strangely in a house full of religious artifacts, it was the only thing to give off a glow. Ireena has no idea about an aging effect from it. Ismark claims it must be Strahd. Gilbert says it’s just visual. He feels fine, no aching joints or cricked back, but he feels safer with the necklace on so he’s keeping it. Curse and all.

Once Gilbert was squared away we could focus back on Ireena. The others want to try to leave for Vallaki today. Part of me wants to explore this town more for information, but there will be information in Vallaki too. Perhaps even more if it’s not as downtrodden as this village. While we finished eating, and Bom worked on stuffing himself and his pack to bursting, we questioned Ismark. To get a better feel for what we signed up for. Going to Vallaki is at least a two day travel. Ismark isn’t sure of a good spot to stop for the night so that will be fun. Vallaki is further from Strahd’s castle so it’s safer? I guess you can see Castle Ravenloft from the Village of Barovia, but with the ever present fog I don’t see how they see anything. Ismark also has no idea why Strahd is so set on Ireena. Everything is still a big mystery. The others went up to pack after our question and answer game. Hope they hurry so we can get on with this and back into a town. Normally nature feels safe and peaceful, but here it’s like a chill runs down my spine. Like screaming just on the edge of my hearing. This fog makes me claustrophobic.


	16. Flashing Insults

Dear Diary,

Why would I think this journey out of town would fair better than the last? The fog isn’t just death fog, now it is death fog with eyes. Eyes watching us. Eyes everywhere. The bulk of a figure obscured just enough to make you question if something is actually there. If it wasn’t for Roht noticing and showing us we might have missed the creepy eyes spying from every corner. This reminded me I should maybe tell the others about the whole death fog thing and how we are stuck in Barovia. Not Barovia the village but Barovia the land. Never name a town after the territory it resides in. Just confusing. Bom was sad as we left the village because the crying lady wasn’t crying as we past. He worried something happened to her before he got the chance to pry into her life. However, this quickly passed once he pulled out a drum, playing a marching beat for us. 

What we’ve seen so far only reinforces my feelings about nature here. The open areas are full of dead grass and dirt patches. More of those wrong trees. They feel painful. Twisted, black, and barren. Which is why I was surprised when we crossed a huge crystal clear river. The water a beautiful deep blue with silvery little bodies shining in the currents. It was good to see something that didn’t feel corrupted and dirty. 

And as much of a high point as the river was, our next encounter was just as much as a low point. Five men seeped out of the forests and onto the road before us. I would guess hunters from the pelts slung over their shoulders. Upon seeing Bom, they were uneasy. Calling out to us about the goblin threat, offering their help. Gilbert and Bom tried to set them straight. We choose to travel with a goblin. Gilbert’s “friend” moniker a bit too much. The group of men backed off, but offer up the advice of keeping our weapons closer than the goblin. This was the last straw for Bom, who decided insulting their mothers and flashing them the best course of action. Ugh, being attacked by Strahd is almost preferable to that sight. Thank goodness the men didn’t attack us, but there goes our chance for more information or help. Then again their parting words were “Barovia is a dangerous land. Watch your back.” I half expect them to follow and ambush us at night, because vampires aren’t enough to worry about.


	17. Watch Your Backs

Dear Diary,

Crossroads are never good. Anything at a crossroads is ill luck. Mom always told me to hold my breath when passing over a one. So of course this crossroad had a gallows and graveyard. Barovia doesn’t hold back! We came up to the crossroad, a graveyard just off to the side, and an empty wooden gallows sitting in the center. Gil wanted to check the signs for directions. Vallaki was in the same direction of Ravenloft. After being told Vallaki was further from Strahd, it felt off that we had to go nearer to his home. So we had to stop and argue with Ismark and stopping for just a moment at a crossroad is all the time needed. It started with a creaking noise from behind us. Like an old wooden floor. I turned to see the gallows wasn’t empty any longer. A body hung from its noose. My body. It took a minute to recognize it but it was me. A perfect copy of me. The large plait running down the center of its hair, exactly how I had braided mine this morning. The smattering of freckles stood out harshly against the dead pale skin. The only difference were the eyes. It’s eyes were milky gray, not bright violet. I freaked out. I’m still freaked out. I know it’s a trick from Strahd, but seeing your own dead body is hard to rationalize.

The others didn’t see me. They saw some random stranger. Roht wanted to take a look. When she approached it and started poking around, it started to move. It started to talk and scream silently at me. The others also didn’t see this. Did it really happen? But it just kept talking. No noise. Nothing. Just its mouth moving, screaming out at me. I don’t want to know what it said. I never want to know what it said. But still we lingered at that cursed crossroad. Roht then had to touch the dead body. And once she did, it dissolved to dust. At least it stopped. At least I don’t have to see her anymore. I wanted to burn it. I wanted to cleanse it. Without even realizing it I conjured up the flame in my hand. I was about to loose it when Ismark grabbed me, bringing me back to my surroundings. Four giant wolves along with over a dozen normal wolves encircled us. However, the second I saw them I knew they weren’t wolves. The four giant wolves are werewolves. 

The wolves hung back while their superiors charged us. Claws and teeth came quick. Nothing connected immediately, except for the one that bit me. The bite felt hot and flashed across my body like a flame. I actually still feel a bit ill, achy with chills. I worry about lycanthropy. I have no means to remove it, but it could be my nerves. Everyone worries after a were bite but that doesn’t mean I’m cursed. I pray I’m not cursed. I have enough curses going on already. Bom somehow dropped one to its knees. I swear it’s yelping almost sounded like laughter. Gilbert stabbed at one, but his pitchfork seemed to glance off it’s pelt. Roht and I had differing ideas on how to help. She cloaked us in darkness while I lit up a couple of werewolves with faerie fire. It was the first time I got the spell to work correctly! Rowan teased me so much about being able to make a giant fire orb but unable to make a dim light. Would he be proud? Will I ever get to show him? It’s just a bit of light, nothing to be excited about. But it was eerie. The barely visible violet glow silhouetting werewolves in a sea of inky black.

Not trusting fire while I can’t see my companions I pulled out a sprig of mistletoe from my herb satchel to enchant my staff. The other’s attacks seemed to do little, but a smack from my staff elicited a bright yelp of pain and retreat. The werewolves tore off from their attacks. Tail between their legs they ran from the darkness to regroup and throw out idle threats. “Give us the girl or perish here!” Strahd was far more intimidating. Bom sassed them, so now the werewolves will kill him before running off with Ireena...somehow. This seemed like the perfect chance to threaten them back. Make them retreat in fear of a lost battle, especially since Ireena was starting to freak out. Ismark had his hands full trying to keep her calm but soon succumbed to her panic. Roht and I were really the only ones that could harm the weres. The sooner we scared them off the better, so I cast my strongest spell. I edged my way to the end of the darkness and exposed just enough of myself to be able to visually see the weres then called down a pure beam of brilliant silvery moonlight. The one I injured wasn’t pleased as he lost his form and became human again. And of course the bastard was the damned leader of those hunters! I knew they were going to ambush us! I knew Bom’s antics would come back to bite us literally! “Barovia is a dangerous land. Watch your back.” He should be the one worrying about turning into damned werewolf. Yes I am bitter. 

Seeing the effect of my spell drew the focus onto me. The weres charged and attacked. Not quite the effect I wanted. Gilbert managed to grab one in a strange bear hug and force it unconscious. Choking out a werewolf is “just like wrestlin’ cows” I guess. The others clawed at me but I held the spell long enough to steer the beautiful column of light a hair breath in front of my face searing the werewolves. Another lost his form. Another one of the hunters we met on the road. I regret I couldn’t pierce Bom with my moonbeam too. The next set of attacks however did shatter my concentration and my spell. The werewolves really tore at me. Maybe the wounds are why I feel under the weather and not lycanthropy. Ireena and Ismark had run away during this, calling and looking for help. With everything going on I didn’t realize what they were up to until I heard their calls of ‘Over here! Over here!” Help precious help. 

From behind us a woman called for us to run before the wolves overwhelmed us while other voices began to chant spells. A mist of mustard yellow drifted and coalesced around the wolves surrounding us, causing them to hack and cough. The werewolves were afflicted with something else, something that seemed to scare them to their cores. Two took off shouting, “I won’t forget this Vistani!” The sleeping wolf sleeps while the last werewolf decides it would rather attack than run off with his pack. And it’s me he wants to attack. I don’t exactly remember what happened after he connected. I think I blacked out for a few minutes. I was hurting, losing blood from the various bites and scratches, but the next thing I remember is laying on the ground, Bom standing next to me. Roht is gone as is her cloud of darkness. Gilbert is trying to hold off the werewolf. And a woman with brilliant red hair is swinging her huge axe at the werewolf while yelling at us to run.

I took a few seconds to take in our situation. Most of my mana was spent and I was barely standing. The spellwork holding the wolves at bay was snapping like over taut threads. It was at its limit and soon a mess of wolves would crash into us. If our new found help was telling us to run, that they couldn’t hold off the forces attacking, we needed to run. So I did. I screamed at Bom and Gilbert to follow suit. I maybe tossed in a thank you to Bom for the heal as well. It almost makes up for him putting us in this mess. 

I see our new friends as I crest the hill they are standing on. Ireena, Ismark, and Roht with four humans in bright colors. Like a rainbow of wandering adventurers or Vistani. A new word I need to ask about. When I glance down to see if Bom and Gil have followed I see the red haired woman and a rogue sneaking about bringing the Vistani number up to six. And of course Bom and Gilbert are still dicking around with the were and wolves. After a few more bites from the werewolf and tongue lashings from the red haired woman they finally get it in their heads to retreat. A human with sword and shield, the leader?, corralled us down the road towards their camp. 

He introduced himself as Falkon and took us north, towards the Tser Pools. Which I only remember from the arguing over where we needed to go at the crossroad. He looked to be the oldest of the party. Besides him is Alana, our red head that welds a giant axe. Two spellcasters, one in green robes, and the other in blue. The rogue, who looked the youngest. And the only non human, a half elf archer clad in a brown cloak threaded with a rainbow of color. He wasn’t too happy when I asked about the phase of the moon, as if we weren’t just fighting werewolves and might have cause to worry.

The road gave way to trails and paths which lead to a beautiful camp. It was the first bit of color and life I’ve seen since passing through those stone gates. Five huge round tents each stripped with vibrant color, a handful of large covered wagons, and a bit off to the side a much larger tent in red. Flickering warm campfires were intertwined with dancing bodies and a chorus of songs blending together in harmony from dozens of different voices. It almost feels like the gray listlessness of the mist is repelled in this one small spot. The group wandered off as we entered the camp except for Falkon. He tells us to visit Madam Eva. She seems to be in charge of this camp and the person that sent our saviors to us. She foretold our need for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been like three months but we finally managed to get together and play again!  
> Also I am totally a werewolf now. I rolled a 1 on my save ;-;


End file.
